


I Can't Forgive You This Time

by SerenitySky



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-25
Updated: 2014-03-13
Packaged: 2018-01-13 16:47:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1233829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerenitySky/pseuds/SerenitySky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony's drinking and partying has always been a problem for his and Steve's marriage. One night, Tony takes things too far, causing Steve to feel like he has had enough and he begins to question their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was early in the morning when Tony walked through the front door of his house. He shut the door quietly and leaned against it, passing a hand over his eyes and pulling it down over his beard where he then moved it to the side of his neck. Rubbing it, he closed his eyes and sighed softly.

_‘I fucked up so hard…’_

He was startled by a soft voice when his husband came around the corner in nothing but shorts. “Tony? Is that you?” Steve’s voice was groggy, but it didn’t sound like he’d actually gotten any sort of rest. As he approached, Tony could see faint dark circles under Steve's eyes and the weariness that was etched onto his face; none of it from lack of sleep. 

Tony cleared his throat and straightened so he wasn't slumped. “Yeah, it’s me.”

“It’s five in the morning, Tony; you’re not usually out this late. Where have you been?”

Tony paused. He had rehearsed this a thousand times over on the cab ride back--god knows he didn't want to face even Happy in these circumstances--but that made it no easier to say. “Steve there’s…something I need to tell you…”

Rogers froze when he heard those words, and it was then that he took in Tony’s appearance: disheveled hair, shirt half-tucked in with only some of the buttons done up, and most of them in the wrong holes, his suit jacket nearly hanging off of one shoulder, and his belt was a little looser than usual, not to mention his tie was missing. There was also a couple smudges of pink around his white collar; it wasn't hard to tell what those were.

The torture written on Steve’s face was indescribable. “Tony…you didn’t…”

Tony held up his hands in an attempt at an apology and walked toward Steve, “I wanted to be up front with you. I don’t want to hide things from you, no matter how bad they may be. There was this woman at the after-party,” he paused and shook his head, “Things got out of hand and…”

He looked up, shamefaced, at Steve. The captain didn’t say anything for a while; he just stared at the floor in confusion. His gaze would flicker to the slowly sobering man and he would open his mouth to say something, but then would suddenly look away. When he finally found the words, in nearly broke Tony’s heart,

“How could you?”

The words were so quiet, but so pain-filled. They were merely a whisper but they might as well have been a scream for all that they pierced Tony to the core. He tried to explain, “I wasn’t in my right mind Steve. I had more drinks than I usually do and-”

“I’m not some random lover that you can charm with your sweet talk, Tony!”

Tony was taken aback at his husband’s sudden outburst. He was hurt, though not nearly as much as he knew Steve was hurting.

“Steve…I..”

“I can’t take it anymore Tony!" Rogers' hands were balled into fists at his sides and he was shaking. "I’m tired of long nights alone, waiting up for you to come home drunk out of your mind. Tired of going to stop you before you get your ass hauled to jail.” By this point the tears were slowly trailing down Steve's face, “I’m tired of wondering if there’s some gorgeous girl sitting at the bar that you’re just dying to take home. And now, when you actually do…” Steve turned and rested his elbow above his head and against the wall, his left hand placed on his hip. He ran his right through his blonde hair and faced Tony.

“And what if it happens again? You promised me you’d stop drinking so much, especially after we talked about adopting a baby. If you can’t even keep that then what…” He sighed again, exasperated.

Tony didn’t know how to reply to all of that. He never knew how Steve truly felt about all of this. He suspected, maybe, and there were some things he naturally knew Steve was thinking, but Cap had never mentioned anything outright. And, sure, they’d had a few arguments but they always made up afterwards. Now, he wasn’t so sure that would happen, and it terrified him.

“Steve,” he began, stepping towards his husband, “I swear, tonight was a one-time thing. It won’t happen again, I promise.” But Tony knew how empty those words sounded, knew he was grasping at straws.

Steve shook his head, “I don’t know if I can trust that right now. I really don’t. I-I…” He paced a little. “I feel like I don’t even know you anymore…”

“Well then maybe you never knew me! Maybe I can’t live up to this perfect image that you have laid out in your head. Am I not good enough for Mr.Golden-boy? Am I not good enough for the all-mighty Captain America?” Tony stopped himself.

 _Oh fuck_ …the drink still hadn’t quite worn off, but that was no excuse for what he’d just said. Tony always got on the defensive during their arguments, but this, this was not the time.

Steve was frozen during the entire speech and it took him a while to find his voice. When he finally spoke, it was with trembling words.

“Maybe you’re not good enough for Captain America,” he said quietly, looking down and fingering the golden circle around his left ring-finger, “but I thought you were more than enough for Steve Rogers.” He slowly slipped the ring off and let it fall at Tony’s feet.

Tony couldn’t speak as he watched it drop and heard the soft ‘ _clink_ ’ as Steve’s wedding band hit the floor.

“Cap…Steve…” he whispered. But when he looked up, Steve already had his shoes on and was sliding on a thick, green hoodie, leaving it open.

He glanced at Tony, his jaw set and his eyes full of agony. “I’m going to be at the old Brooklyn apartment. _Don’t_ come over.” He took a set of keys and his wallet from the stand in the entryway and slipped them into his pocket before heading for the door.

“I’m so sorry Steve…” Tony whispered, barely audible and not able to look at the super soldier as he passed.

Steve paused for a brief second and glanced back at Tony, whose head was hanging and back facing him, before walking out, slamming the door behind him. As soon as he was gone, Tony let his knees give and he slumped to the floor. He tried to laugh hoarsely through the sobs that began to wrack his body, but soon he was overcome. He sat there for a long time, staring at the small gold band still lying on the floor and wondering if Steve would ever come back and what he would do if he didn’t.


	2. Chapter 2

After Steve had stormed out that morning, Tony ordered JARVIS to let him know if he called or came back while the billionaire was out, something he was going to avoid doing as much as possible. The only word he’d ever heard from Cap was when he came home a few days later and JARVIS plainly said,

_“Captain Rogers was in earlier to pick up his shield, outfit, and a few other personal belongings, sir.”_

And sure enough, when Tony ran down to the lab, the Captain America suit and shield were gone. As if to prove to himself that it wasn’t true, he raced upstairs to the room he and Steve shared and proceeded to open the drawers Steve stored his clothing in. All were empty. He threw open the closet doors to find half of it full of his own suits, shirts, and pants, but the other half held only a few empty hangers. Tony ran both hands through his hair in disbelief and took a step back. He was gone. He was really gone. He obviously didn’t have any plans of returning if he took everything--

It was then that Tony noticed one lone garment hanging in the back of the empty side of the closet. Curious, he brought it out to examine it, but took a sharp intake of breath and almost recoiled when he recognized it. It was the three-piece suit Steve had worn on their wedding day, that beautiful, perfect day that had been ingrained in Tony’s mind. It was a fairly small wedding with only their close friends, but the only thing that Tony had focused on was Steve. Steve, in his dapper suit, looked so handsome, so sexy, so perfect. The way the sun shone on his golden hair, the smile that told him this was right, and shining blue eyes that showed him the promise of love and of endless days together. Days that had now come to an end, days that would now never happen.

Tony was snapped out of his reverie by the gentle feeling of water on his hand and it took him a moment to realize that he had started to cry. He hastily wiped away the few tears that had formed and in doing so inadvertently brought the suit nearer to his face where he caught the faint scent of Steve’s cologne. Tony was surprised that it had lasted that long on the clothing, but nonetheless he brought it closer, closed his eyes, and inhaled. It’s funny how many emotions and memories can be incited by a single object or smell, and right then Tony was experiencing all of them, every second he’d ever spent with Steve. All of the missions they’d been on together, the fights they’d had when they first met, the feelings he had when he first realized that he saw Steve as more than a teammate, that first kiss they’d shared, their playful banter, meals cooked together when Tony-the-genius would manage to burn almost everything, those long nights of passion when the world simply melted away, and the simple comfort from being in one another’s arms.

And for the second time that week, Tony found himself crumpled on the floor, but this time he knew Steve wasn’t coming back.

———-

It had now been one month since Steve left on that early morning. One month since Steve had thrown his ring at Tony’s feet and called it quits. One month since Tony felt anything happier than numb. Every now and then, a thought would creep in of happier times with the Captain and their life together, or it would switch to more dismal thoughts of ‘where did it all go wrong’, or worse, back to the morning that he would much rather erase from his memory entirely. Of course, doing so would result in forgetting that Steve and he were together for an extra day, that Steve even existed that day. If Tony had it his way, however, he would rather do just that; forget entirely that anything had ever happened or wish that none of it had happened at all. Whatever the case, Tony always tried to force these thoughts as far back into the recesses of his mind when they would oh-so-wonderfully decide to pop up.

It happened to be one of those days as Tony was working in his lab and his mind chose to relive finding Steve’s belongings gone. Continuing with his welding, he reached for his glass of gin and quickly downed it. He’d been working nearly non-stop on various upgrades and new parts for the Iron Man suit, but so far none of them had produced the desired effect.

_“Sir, Miss Potts is on her way down.”_

“Don’t let her in, JARVIS,” Tony replied to the AI, not once looking up from his metalwork.

A soft click was heard as Pepper Potts opened the door and entered the lab.

Tony sighed irritably, “And of course he lets her in.”

“I came to see how you were doing,” she said walking to his side, “You haven’t been to any of the company’s press conferences or meetings. I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever and I was just concerned.”

Tony stopped his work and lifted his goggles, “I’m fine; why wouldn’t I be?” He shrugged it off so simply. “Besides, you’re the CEO of Stark Industries now, so I don’t have to be at any meetings or whatnot if I don’t want to.”

“No, I suppose you don’t. That doesn’t mean that I can’t come check in on you.” When he didn’t respond, she continued, “No one has heard a word from you, besides the messages JARVIS gives us. I’m not the only one who’s a bit worried.”

Tony shrugged, “So I’ve decided to be antisocial for a bit. I’m working.”

Pepper laughed humorlessly, “You’re _Tony Stark_. You’re the complete opposite of antisocial.”

“Well,” Tony poured himself another glass of gin from the near-empty bottle sitting on the next table, “Maybe it’s time for Tony Stark to change.”

He downed that glass and made to get back to his work.

She tried a different approach. She knew Tony well enough to know that he could refuse to talk no matter how much you pressed, but she also knew just how much he was hiding underneath that emotionless mask.

“It’s also been a while since anyone’s heard anything from Steve either. Phil’s in contact with him somewhat, but he’s been avoiding S.H.I.E.L.D otherwise.”

Tony stiffened slightly, but only just.

“I don’t see why it concerns me.”

Pepper closed her eyes and sighed quietly, “Have you ever tried just calling him, Tony?”

“He knows me better than to think I would do that.” His thoughts flicked back to that morning. “Or maybe he doesn’t…” he murmured to himself, “It wouldn’t make any difference either way.”

“You won’t know if you don’t try.”

“Pepper!” He gave her a cold and emotionless look, “You’re distracting me from my work.” And with that, he slid his welding goggles back on and reabsorbed himself into his work.

All Pepper could do was look sorrowfully at the broken man and sigh softly before leaving him in what little peace he had.

Tony continued to work until he accidentally mixed the wrong wires together, causing a great flurry of sparks to erupt from his project. He jumped back in surprise and shook the hand he burned, which he proceeded to angrily slam on the table.

“DAMMIT!” 

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, reaching for the bottle of gin. He was about to pour another glass but stopped himself and gently set it back down. He slumped into his chair and rested his head in his hands. A soft whirring and a nudge at his side alerted him to DUM-E's presence. The bot chirped quietly and poked at his master's hand. Tony looked over and placed a gentle hand on him.

"What am I doing with myself, boy?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for mentions of suicide and suicidal thoughts.

The sounds of fists hitting burlap resonated throughout the small gym. Sweat dripped down the man’s face as he continued to beat the sack of sand with controlled but powerful strikes. The blue eyes of Steve Rogers glistened dully, not completely focused on the task at hand. With one final punch, he knocked the bag off of its hook and burst it. It did not faze him in the slightest as he picked up another bag and put it in the last one’s place and then proceeded to attack it. This was how the super-soldier had been spending most of his evenings lately; it may not be everyone’s favourite form of stress-relief, but it worked for Steve. He looked at it practically: constantly exercising kept him in shape for his role as Captain America, and it kept his mind off of things he’d rather forget. He hadn’t done this much since…well since he woke up in the future. Since he realized that most of his friends and family were long dead. Since he realized he’d never see Peggy again.

His punches became more forceful.

Now he was back at it, and it was all because of that stupid playboy. The billionaire that convinced him to go on their first date, was the one who made him smile truthfully for the first time in 70 years, made him trusting enough for Steve to tell him things he wouldn’t dare repeat to anyone else, convinced him that he might actually stay faithful. He was missing the smirk of that stubborn man, longing to caress his skin, breathe in his scent, hear the soft hum of the glowing arc reactor, and taste his delicious lips. Because despite everything, he could not forget Tony and he could not ever stop loving Tony, even if the other man didn’t love him.

Steve hadn’t realized it, but his punches had become significantly more erratic and violent and he soon found himself punching at air and stumbling from the force of his unstopped swing. Surprised, he looked down to see the bag on the floor, and when he felt a bit more pain than normal in his hands he found that he had worn the tape down and they were bleeding. He sighed and ran one bloody appendage through his hair, grabbing an already damp towel with the other and dried his face and neck.

He’d often wondered if Tony would ever call, but he shook his head at the thought. He knew Tony that well at least and he would not make the first move. Had Steve ever thought of calling him? Of throwing open that door and rushing to his husband, promising never to leave again? Of course he had, and half the time he’d been tempted to actually do it. One time, on a cold evening, he even went to Avengers Tower, but didn’t go any farther than the sidewalk. He had just stared up at the brightly lit, looming thing, hands in his jacket pockets. He couldn't even go to their own house. He couldn’t do it, he just couldn’t do it. Every time it made him think of which was worse: loving someone and not being able to be with them, or loving someone and having to share them, never knowing if your love was ever truly being returned.

His thoughts were interrupted by the harsh ringing of his cell phone. Sighing, Steve rummaged through his bag until he found it and pressed the green ‘talk’ button.

“Hello?”

“Captain Rogers? It’s Agent Coulson. You’re needed at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters as soon as possible.”

Steve stiffened; the last thing he wanted to do was go there where he might run into Tony. But then again, Tony had always been as evasive with S.H.I.E.L.D. as possible and probably wouldn’t set a foot near it no matter how much they forced him. Probably.

“Steve?”

He hadn’t realized that he had stayed silent. “Uh, yes. I’ll be there right away. Is there a situation?” He began gathering his things, sliding the busted bags in their designated spot. Since he’d started coming to that gym, he’d made a bit of an arrangement with the staff; he would pay extra for all of the punching bags he’d need and they had them repaired or discarded. All of his actions stopped, however, when he heard Coulson’s next words:

“It’s Tony.”

Beneath his usual professional exterior, Steve could hear the concern in Coulson’s voice. He didn’t want to be worried, didn’t want to care, wanted to say that Tony was no longer his priority or his problem, but he couldn’t.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” The words tumbled out faster and laced with more fear than he intended.

“He…he’s on the edge of the Chrysler Building. He’s refusing to come down and he’s shooting at everyone who gets too close. We’ve sent in the works, even Clint and Banner can’t get him down and Banner’s afraid of getting to close and letting the other guy out.”

He barely realized it, but Steve was outside and heading in the direction of Tony.

“He can just fly off though, and I’m pretty sure that the suit can take whatever the Hulk throws at him. He’s in no immediate danger, right Coulson?” His stomach dropped and he came to a halt when the agent didn’t reply right away.

“Right, Phil?”

Steve heard him take a breath, “He’s not wearing his suit, Steve. I don’t know if he took it off after he got up there or what. Either way, the only thing he has is an arm attachment to keep us away.”

“But you don’t think he…”

“I wouldn’t have called you otherwise.”

His blood ran cold. “Where exactly on the building did you say he was?” His voice was commanding, he was in Captain mode, no nonsense just straight to the point. Getting the information from Phil, he picked up his pace with a muttered “Thanks” before hanging up and breaking into a full-out run.

He zigzagged around people, didn’t wait for traffic but merely evaded and leapt over it. That was only done because of basic motor function and instinct; his mind was preoccupied with keeping the intimidatingly large skyscraper in view and reaching it as soon as possible. The rest was a jumbled mess, repetitions of _‘Not Tony, oh god, please not Tony’_ and a final decision made because yes he was hurt, he was hurt beyond measure and the pain would probably worsen if he continued his life with Tony, but GOD he loved that man, he did love that man more than he hated the pain and the mere thought of an absolute, of Tony being gone forever out of his life and out of this world…well Steve knew that such a world would be unbearable and impossible to live in.

After what seemed like a lifetime, he neared the skyscraper and saw a rather large police barricade surrounding it. Not breaking his pace, he rushed past the officers and jumped over the barricade, ignoring their shouts and feeble attempts to stop him as he pushed through the main doors. He hesitated slightly upon entering the lobby only to locate the stairs. He didn’t bother to try the elevator, for in his opinion it would take far too long. Instead, he burst through the door to the stairs and began taking them two at a time, sometimes three. Even with his serum, he was beginning to feel the wear of the strenuous exercise and his breathing grew heavy, but he pressed on thinking only of what lay at the end.

When he finally reached the floor Coulson had indicated, he went into the first room he came across and clambered out the window. A little more cautious now, Steve looked around frantically for Tony, easing his way along the side of the building. When he heard the soft sound of a melody being softly sung, relief washed through Steve, but only momentarily when he finally spied the other man around the corner. Tony was perched on one of the gargoyle-like eagle heads protruding beyond the edge of the tower. He sat with one leg crooked upright, his right arm resting on top of his knee. It looked as though he was surveying the city, the way he was slightly bent.

Steve eased closer to the edge, “Tony?” he said hesitantly.

The singing ceased and without turning the billionaire swung his free arm around, palm open and the high-pitched whirring of a pulsar beam charge was heard.

“You’ve got five seconds to make your ass scarce or I will blast you from here to Wakanda.” His voice was steady and clear, devoid of emotion.

“Tony…it’s Steve.”

The other man stiffened, and for a while neither one spoke. Tony lowered is armoured arm and spoke, “I see. Come to see the almighty Tony Stark hit rock bottom?” He laughed humorlessly at his own morbid joke, his tone defensive, attacking, irritated, and perhaps a bit sad. He glanced only barely over his shoulder at Steve and continued in a more emotionless tone, “Then again, you wouldn’t do that. I actually wonder why you’re here at all…”

Steve took a few more steps forward so he was at the very edge of the building.

“Tony, I came because I’m worried about you. Now stop being stupid and difficult and get off of there!” He was trying to stay calm, trying to keep his emotions in check—those could be dealt with later—but he wasn’t finding it all that easy.

Tony acted almost as though he hadn’t heard Steve and turned back to face the city. “No, why would you be concerned? You’re Captain fucking America. You’re just doing your job, because god forbid Captain America doesn’t come in to save the day, god forbid he doesn’t rush to follow S.H.I.E.L.D’s orders like the good puppy he is.” He nearly spat those last malice-laced words.

Steve was stung by Tony’s words, but he let them pass. “No, that’s not it at all. Yes, I was told about…this,” he made a vague gesture, “but I was out the door before they could even think about giving me an order. I’m here of my own volition.” Tony gave something of a scoff, but Steve continued.

“You know as well as I do that I wouldn’t be out here if I didn’t care at least a little. Tony…just come off of there a-and we can talk, or you can yell at me, punch me, whatever you want. So please Tony…” He had turned to pleading, he was desperate. He was offering Tony anything he could think of at the moment.

_‘Just get him off of that ledge…’_

Tony laughed harshly and began to stand up, “You know, I wish it were that simple, _Rogers_ ,” Steve winced at that, “I wish I could just hate you. I wish I could beat the living daylights out of you for all of this and it would be over. I wish I could blame you for tossing your wedding band at my feet and leaving me that night.”

He was fully turned to face Steve now. His eyes were ringed by massive dark circles as though he hadn’t slept in weeks. His clothing was a wrinkled mess and his face was filled with pain, anguish, and self-hatred. His eyes were threatening to water, though it was clear that tears had already come and gone many times, and his lower lip trembled only slightly. Steve’s heart broke at the sight; he just wanted to take Tony in his arms and tell him it would be okay, that he would never let him go. He held himself back however, for he knew that the situation was far too precarious for any sudden action.

Tony continued: “I can’t though, I just can’t. Because none of this is your fault. The only mistake you made was the decision to be with me, but even then I’m still partly to blame because I fell for you and stupidly thought that things might actually work out. But no, they never do because I’m too much of a fuck-up to get anything right. Why should this be any different?” He looked down. “Even now I’m causing you pain. If it weren’t for Pepper and that damned traitor of an AI you wouldn’t be witness to such a spectacle. No, this could have all been settled in the quiet of my lab…” He murmured the last bit, perhaps thinking that Steve wouldn’t hear him. “If anything were to happen to me right now, it would just hurt you and maybe not only because you’d blame yourself.”

He faced Steve once again with the look of a defeated man. His voice was small, not in the least bit commanding, and broken, “I’ve already caused you enough pain, Steve. I can’t make you suffer anymore.”

At this point, Steve could no longer restrain himself and he lept over the low wall separating them and onto the gargoyle. Tony started and took a step back, but that was a step he didn’t quite have. His foot began to slip over the smooth neck of the stone beast. He tried to regain his balance, but it wasn’t working as his weight shifted and gravity began her gentle pull. Not wasting any time, Steve rushed forward and grabbed Tony’s arm, pulling him back away from the edge and close to his chest. He took a few steps back and wrapped both arms around the smaller man’s form and sunk to his knees, Tony following suit from the mere shock of what nearly happened.

They stayed there in silence for a long time, Steve resting his head on Tony’s shoulder and not even slightly relinquishing his tight grip, shaking violently all the while. Tony was still somewhat in a state of shock, and being in Steve’s arms again did not help. He let himself be held and lay his forehead on Steve’s chest, listening to the faint but erratic beating of his heart. He sighed softly; it was a sound he missed all too much.

Steve finally spoke, his voice unsteady from his breathing that was just beginning to slow down, “Tony…I-I won’t lie and say that I wasn’t hurt. I won’t tell you that it didn’t almost kill me when you came home that night. I won't say that everything is going to be okay and we'll act like nothing happened. But Tony…” His arms tightened around the other man and he breathed deep, taking in the smell of oil, grease, and sweat, but he didn’t care. Tony was here, _here_. “Tony, I can’t leave you. I don’t _want_ to. All of those things you said, they’re not even remotely true. We can work on things, work it out, Tony, we can. I just…I can’t bear the thought of not having you…”

Tony shook his head slightly against the fabric of Steve’s shirt, “I could do so much worse Steve, I don’t deserve you, but more than that, you could do a million times better than this mess.”

“I don’t want whatever is ‘better’!” His tone was sharp, and it startled Tony. He finally released Tony from his death grip and faced him with a tear-stained face. “Because that’s not you,” he whispered, “and you’re all I want.” He cupped Tony’s cheek and ran his thumb along the rough stubble.

Tony stared into those blue eyes, expecting to see maybe some form of resentment or hesitation but there was none, only love. Tony sighed and closed his eyes, leaning into the hand.

“I’m sorry Steve…” he murmured, “I’m so sorry…for everything that I’ve done…I’m sorry…” Tears slowly began to slip from his eyes as he shook his head and repeated the words over and over. Steve rested his forehead against Tony’s, wiping away a few tears with his thumb and held the other man gently as he cried.

When the shaking subsided and the tears were slowing, Steve pulled back from Tony. Slowly, cautiously, he gently tipped Tony’s chin up and placed a soft kiss on his chapped lips. Tony froze momentarily but soon kissed back, matching Steve’s tenderness at first but desperation quickly took over. He was afraid that at any moment Steve would melt away, that maybe this was simply another one of the twisted dreams that woke him so often in the middle of the night. Their hands roamed, running along muscle, beneath shirts, over familiar scars, not in a fit of pleasure, but to reassure themselves that the other was there, that this was _real_.

They broke apart, both breathless and staring at the other. Finally, Steve ran a hand through Tony’s tousled black hair and placed a chaste kiss on his forehead.

“Let’s go home,” he murmured.

Tony nodded and closed his eyes, falling against Steve, who smiled gently. He slipped his arms underneath Tony and lifted him as he stood, carrying him bridal style. For once, Tony did not object, and let his weight fall into Cap’s strong arms and began to slip into sleep. As Tony listened to Steve’s heartbeat and his slow steps, Steve whispered, “I love you Tony…”

Tony sighed, “I love you too Steve…”


End file.
